Happy Halloween!
by candysparkles627
Summary: It's halloween, and Ralph and Vanellope are telling scary stories. Who will be more scared? (really long one-shot)


It's Halloween, and Ralph and Vanellope are in Ralph's penthouse after trick-or-treating.

"We got so much candy!" Vanellope yelled, throwing some of the candy in the air like confetti.

"Yeah, we have so much, we'll probably have some left over next Halloween!"

"Hey Ralphie, I have an idea! Because Halloween is made for scary stuff, let's tell scary stories!"

"Are you sure? Last time we told scary stories, you had nightmares for two weeks."

"Yes I'm sure! You start. And make it scary!"

"Okay, but don't coming crying to me if you're scared."

Vanellope rolled her eyes. "Just tell the story."

"Fine. It's called 'Never break a mirror'. 'Lindsay, be careful! I don't want you to break anything!' said Lindsay's mother sternly. Lindsay sighed. Lindsay was ten, and was helping her mother and grandfather pack up the old house. Her grandmother had passed away seven months previously, and her grandfather could no longer afford to keep the house on one pension. Lindsay's grandparents had collected a lot of antique things over the years, and they had to be carefully packed and moved.  
'Especially that old mirror.'

'There,' said Grandpa, coming out of nowhere. Lindsay and her mother jumped; he had always had the habit of doing that. 'Why?' asked Lindsay curiously, 'Because, breaking a mirror means seven years of bad luck. And that mirror has a curse, if somebody broke that blessed glass, they would have naught but the worst experiences hell could produce,' he warned. 'Lindsay, don't listen to your grandpa, you know superstition is nonsense,' said Lindsay's mother, 'I'd rather you didn't break it anyway, it'd be a horrible mess,' she added.

Lindsay's mother and grandfather continued to pack the house while Lindsay ran about and played. No matter where in the house she played, or how far away from the sitting room she was, Lindsay couldn't keep her mind away from that mirror. Then, when she couldn't stand it any longer, and her mother and grandfather went to bring a big load of boxes to the far off drive way (the house was quite Victorian style, it was a little bit of a walk to get to the drive), Lindsay grabbed an antique silver candle holder and smashed the mirror to bits. She watched in excitement as the glass poured from the frame, like a crystal waterfall, then she was hit with panic; what if they found it?

Lindsay grabbed a broom and dust pan and swept up the broken glass. She dumped the clutter onto the frame and carried it like a tray upstairs. The spiraling staircase stopped on the second floor, then continued to the attic. Once in the already packed away and empty attic, Lindsay found the edge of the thick rug. She lifted the rug and easily slid the broken mirror beneath it. When she put the rug down, she couldn't tell the difference, as the rug was so thick, and she hoped and prayed that her mother and grandfather couldn't either.

She went back downstairs and continued to play as if nothing had happened. When her mother had finished the house, she remembered something. 'Dad? Where did the mirror go?' she asked her father, puzzled. 'It was right there, what could have happened to it?' Grandpa said, scratching his silver hair.  
'Lindsay? Do you know what happened?'  
'No, I was playing in the other room. It's news to me that it's missing,' Lindsay lied. Lindsay was a very good liar, and was never caught when she did.  
Her mother and grandfather were so tired that they really didn't look further into the matter. After all, it was an ugly old mirror no one was fond of at all, and it was just one less thing to pack, why worry?

About a year later, Grandpa had found a new home, and the old mirror incident lay forgotten. Lindsay was about to turn eleven. Admittedly, a few odd things had happened since. Lindsay's dog ran away. Lindsay's mother had woken up to a lost chunk of hair, only to be told that lack of iron was causing hair loss, more to come. Lindsay got a gerbil, which Lindsay had woken up to find dead the day after she got him. But these were really just coincidences. The dog liked to roam, maybe that day he had forgotten how to get home. The doctors said that Lindsay's mom had had anemia for awhile, it was only just starting to show itself. Perhaps it was just an unhealthy gerbil.

Lindsay's birthday finally arrived, and while her mother was cutting the cake, the telephone rang. "Only the first of seven," an ominous and unknown voice had said. Her mother hung up the phone, believing it to be either a prank call or a misdialed number.  
Then the phone rang again. 'Mrs. Elizabeth Seiver? We're sorry to say, but your father has just died in a car accident. Paramedics were too late; he was dead at the scene.'  
This wasn't the last. Throughout that year, grim things also occurred, only to be followed by Lindsay's twelfth birthday. "The second of seven has arrived," said the ominous voice on the phone again. Seconds after Lindsay's mother had slammed the phone onto the hook, it rang again. Lindsay's Uncle Jacob, who had been fighting in the war, was dead.

The next year, another number of things, even grimmer, occurred. Lindsay's older sister had developed cancer. Lindsay's pregnant cousin had lost her baby in a drive-by shooting. On Lindsay's thirteenth birthday, the ominous voice from no one said, "The third of seven is here."  
Then, news that Lindsay's Aunt Claire had been hit by a bus, not to survive. On and on these calls and the news of death came with every birthday Lindsay had. By the time Lindsay turned sixteen, she had lost her entire family. Her grandfather, uncle, aunt, sister, cousin, and mother had all died in mysterious accidents. Now Lindsay was an orphaned, unstable foster child, with nothing to live for. The day Lindsay turned seventeen, the exact moment the clock struck midnight, Lindsay's eyes fluttered open uneasily in her bed, and she heard a raspy, ominous voice blow around her like it traveled on the air in her bedroom say, "The last of seven has finally arrived. Good bye Lindsay. You know, you really never should have broken that mirror"."

"That wasn't that scary." Vanellope lied, even though she was a little scared.

"Well, do you think you can top it?"

"Yes. Mine's called 'Little red riding hood'. A girl named Brittney was babysitting a little girl named Michelle. 'Can i have some ice cream?' Michelle asked after dinner. 'Sure. Where is it?' Brittney asked. 'In the basement.'

So Brittney walks downstairs to get the ice cream. She turned towards the window and sees a girl in a red cape standing there, just staring. Brittney was a little scared, wondering who was out there.

When she got back upstairs, Michelle also asked for nuts, so Brittney went back downstairs. This time when she looked back out the window, the girl was still standing there, but this time she was holding a knife. She wanted to call the cops, but she didn't want to scare Michelle. By now, Brittney was very scared, and ran back upstairs. Of course, Michelle also wanted a cherry for ice cream. 'Really? Do you really need a cherry?' Brittney said, really not wanting to go back downstairs. 'YES!'

So Brittney walked back downstairs. This time, when Brittney looked out the window, The girl was still there with the knife, but the knife was covered with blood. Brittney sprinted back upstairs, terrified. She found Michelle dead. She called Michelle's parents immediately and told them everything that happened. 'Wait, we don't have windows in our basement.' The mom said, confused. 'Only mirrors.' Brittney was about to run downstairs to see if they really were mirrors, but when she turned around, the girl in the cape with the blood-covered knife was standing right behind her."

"That wasn't that scary either." Ralph said.

"Oh really?"

"Yes. Now it's getting late, we'd better get to bed."

"Five more minutes?"

"No. Good night."

"Aw. Well, good night."

In the middle of the night, Vanellope got up and snuck down to the kitchen.

"Time for the scary part!" She whispered.

She pulled out a dull knife from one of the drawers and dipped it in red jelly. She found a red cape in the coat closet, so she put it on and flipped up the hood.

Vanellope tip-toed back upstairs, and purposely knocked a vase off a table to make a shattering noise. Ralph woke up when he heard the crash, and walked out into the hall.

"Hey Vanellope, did you hear-" he stopped mid-sentence when he saw the red-caped figure with the knife standing the end of the hall. He screamed.

Vanellope started laughing and pulled off the hood.

"That was so funny! You should've seen the look on your face!" She said while still laughing.

"That wasn't funny!"

"You're right. It wasn't funny. It was hilarious!"

Ralph rolled his eyes. "Not funny. I'm going back to bed. You should too."

"Okay, Mr. Scaredy-pants. Good night, again."

"Good night, again."


End file.
